Universal
Details Name will possibly be changed to Evolved. Profiles Agent Davis Universal Black Supers Green Fire Brian's Tibetan monk outfit. Winter of Sorrow Part I: Elements (V.I) I love you. The first thing to pop in her head when she awoke as well the last thing she said to her boyfriend years ago before he disappeared. Before a lot of people disappeared during what the populace of New Pompeii are still calling the Collapse, when a mysterious meteorites fell from space and crashed simultaneously around the world, killing billions. A curse on Pompeii as it was now called due to the permanent ash cloud over the entire L.A. county, Los Angeles ceased to exist that day. Sharelle McGee, a New Pompeii resident living in an abandoned Coca-Cola in what used to be downtown Los Angeles awoke as the sun rised, she liked doing that. Though no one could see it, she could always feel when it rose as if a flame inside her grew brighter, and that made her happy, one of the few things that nowadays. Part I: Elements (V.II) Los Angeles County as it was formerly known, the approximately five thousand square mile expanse was the first of over several hundred locations worldwide hit simultaneously by mysterious meteors in January 2016 and one of the first to be quarantined. In March, the Federal Emergency Management Agency declared martial in areas designated as inhospitable including cities in the North and Midwest among those in the United States. Now known as New Pompeii due to the massive ash cloud above the entire county from when the meteor struck in what was Hollywood. That was Judgment Day, the beginning of the end, one of the worst days in human history. However, one of the greatest discoveries were found three years after the event; the "Gifted" they were called, "Abominations" by others, people who survived the impact and acquired abilities. Many were put on reservations to be studied, but those who refused escaped to the locales of their rebirth. Sharelle McGee, one of the Gifted awoke from her slumber on the floor of the veterinarian office in what used to be downtown LA. She yawned so loud she disturbed her pet cat, whom was resting next to her; he hissed at her before going back to sleep and Sharelle giggled. "Sorry, Loki." She whispered as she stood and performed her morning routine before going outside, she was still extremely saddened at the sight of the city's current state. It was derelict, tagged and garbage, and animals carcasses flooded the streets. The depressing gray billow overhead didn't help the situation, but sue had to make the best of it, as it was her as well as everyone else who lived there idea to squat in such a squalid area. Thoughts of leaving didn't escape Sharelle though, in fact she often wanted to, but . . . "Sharelle!" Someone called. She turned to see a little Hispanic girl running toward her, it was Hermione, she was barely seven when the government decided to prick and probe her, and if it wasn't for Hermione's sister Crispin she'd probably still be trapped in some lab. The little girl was capable of the manipulation of earth and plant life. "Sharelle, can you come?" "Where?" Hermione didn't bother answering and grabbed her hand, leading her up the street, and heading inside what used to be a liquor store. There, on the floor was a pregnant cat laying next to Crispin. . . . she was needed, and she felt she had a duty to these people. Sharelle walked over. "What's wrong with her?" She asked kneeling down next to them. Crispin was rubbing her stomach softly and spoke low as not to frighten the cat. "Well, obviously she's pregnant, but I think she's about to give birth, and you're the closest thing to veterinarian we got." Sharelle grimaced at the seventeen year-old. You still a bitch! Her mind yelled, If it wasn't for this cat being pregnant I would beat your ass. Then her mouth bore words, "I'll have you know I was in school to be a veterinarian." "Was." Crispin said. Sharelle's grimace held. "Anyone ever—" The cat began to whine and Sharelle turned attention to her, the cat yelped Part II: Agent Omega It was hot and humid out there in the Middle East, the fiery wind blew dust and grime while the desert hid dangerous wildlife, among other things—that didn't stop the United States government from sending thousands of troops to try and stamper out the some motley group of jihadists once again. However, at the moment their was a different battle being waged at Forward Operating Base Jefferson—Echo Company's biweekly arm wrestling competition and Ranger Aaron Davis was winning, so far beating a dozen others. Winter of Sorrow: Spending Time With Daddy (Sequel to Agent Omega) (Most recent update: 26 Mar. 2016) AGENT DAVIS stood tall over this man both metaphorically and literally; this man who lay before him, bound in restraints, he'd been this way for the past four months with very little food and water, and he was condemned to defecating and urinating on himself. It was too funny to the agent, to watch a grown man suffer while wallowing in his own filth, but unfortunately the room smelled so awful and with no form of decent ventilation it forced him to don a gas mask whenever he visited the debased prisoner. Davis bore baleful grin that most people would find unsettling, underneath the mask. The prisoner had gotten so used to the smell of his own waste he was sleeping comfortably on a makeshift cot made from the garbage that littered the room, in fact he seemed a little too comfortable for the agent's taste. He placed his heavy booted foot on the man's head and gradually applied weight, pound by pound. Within seconds the man began to move frantically, wriggling his body moving every part except his head. "Morning, Aaron. Glad to see you could join me back in the world of the living." The agent said in an eerily cheerful tune as he slowly pulled his foot back, smiling. The man scrambled away, distancing himself from the agent. He glared at the masked agent but said nothing until Davis took several steps forward. "When are you letting me go?” Davis dropped down into a squat and looked directly into Aaron's eyes, "Uh, yeah. I'm probably not," he chuckled, "Haven't thought about it, you're that insignificant." "What could I have possibly done to you to have to endure such treatment?" He groaned. Davis shook his head and started chuckling, "You really don't know me, do you? My voice isn’t a dead giveaway?" Aaron only shook his head once, and Davis sighed lightly, not surprised. "I guess she was right. She was always right when it came to you. That's about the only thing." Davis stood up and started walking away while Aaron scrambled for his leg to slow him, "Who was right?" The agent shook the man off and kicked him in the face knocking him back with such force it broke his nose. "Figure it out, college boy." Davis left the room, locking the door -- returning the elder man to his loathsome state. *** It had been four weeks since he came to the prisoner's room, he'd allowed Aaron more food and water, letting him regain some of his strength for when he came by. Aaron quickly looked up when heard his cell door open and Davis stepped through. "Enjoying the meal?" He asked, sincerely. The odd expression of sincerity in his voice was disturbing to the prisoner. Aaron consumed the noodles and biscuits he was served, devouring it before it could be used against him; the noodles were made into an Asian cuisine common in Korea, though he wasn't sure which one. The agent stood there watching him shoveling away the entire meal. "Do you see it now?" He asked, squatting down before the lowly old man. "What?" He questioned after swallowing a mouthful. Without warning Davis slapped the elder directly in the face. Aaron was taken aback by the sudden strike and glared at the young man with ill intent. "What? You gonna do something?!" Davis provoked. His blood was rising and his adrenal glands were going into overdrive, he needed an outlet. "You know what? We're gonna settle this, now." Aaron's eyes grew wary, "I don't understand what it is we have to sett--" Davis stood up unhooked his holster and his M9 Baretta, placing it on floor, he kicked it from reach. "Shut your damn mouth." Davis barked, as he backed up and raised his fist in front of his mask. "Fight me; you win, you go home to your soon-to-be fourth ex-wife. But if you don't I guess it won't really matter, 'cause you know . . . you'll be dead." "That's not really optimistic on my part." The agent chuckled, "You say that like I'm supposed to give a flying fuck." Aaron just stared at him for a moment then got up to his feet and stepped forward with his fists up; he aimed a kick for the agent's legs, but Davis quickly stepped back and parried, bringing Aaron's leg and his body within arm length. Without hesitation the pair assaulted each other, Davis struck him in the stomach while receiving a winded blow to the chest; Aaron vomited his meal while the agent tried to recover, and he was successful. They moved closer and the two traded blows for some time, relentlessly assaulting one another, receiving punches and kicks until Davis managed to knock Aaron to the ground, gaining the upper hand. He then kicked the elder man in the side with such vigor, such hate, that he slid across the piss-coated floor . . . right in the direction of the gun. "Shit." The agent uttered, under his breath. Aaron stumbled over himself in his own waste, practically lathering himself in it for a moment before grabbing the gun and aiming it at his tormentor; his aim did not falter when he stood up, his rage was ample, but unjust as he still did not know who he was dealing with. Oh, but he aimed to find out before what he thought to be night, was over. *** The feeling of a gun in his hands again after a few years was strange, this one had a matte black color with a slate gray grip made from polymer. His hands tightened on it and his finger was on the trigger, he wanted to pull it so bad just to end this nightmare, but the inquisitive man inside him demanded answers before anything else happened. "First thing's first: mask off!" Davis chuckled wryly, "What? You do realize it smells like complete shit in here, right?" Aaron's grimace deepened and pulled the gun's hammer back, cocking it. "Off!" He was serious. "Okay, just don't shoot me, alright?” The agent reached up behind his head, unlatching the bands that held it in place and removed it, "There; you satisfied?" The shock was evident on the old man's face when the agent removed his mask, Aaron just stood there, idle, staring at the face of his tormentor -- the man who once the young boy he helped conceive, but little else, his own flesh and blood -- his son. "A.J.?" He asked, confused. The agent chortled lightly, then grimaced almost immediately. "It's Aaron, 'dad'. Just like you -- so don't call me that. I ain't no fuckin' junior." "Bold, scolding me. Considering the fact you just threatened to kill me." Davis smiled, "I told myself when I was about fourteen that I would, someday, find and kill you. I intend to fulfill that promise." The elder man looked at the gun in his hand then back at his son. "Looks like that's up to me now." "Are you sure?" He said, ominously. The agent slowly approached him, but then backed away a few paces. Aaron demanded that he stop, he ignored him and came close to the door; when Davis touched the door knob his father's finger squeezed the trigger, and a single nine-millimeter projectile burst from the gun's barrel aimed straight for the agent's head. It was within a few centimeters of his eye before it stopped and was held there for several moments as if held by an invisible hand. The expression on Davis' face was of faux concern while his father's was genuine. "How could you, you evil bastard! You just shot at me, your own flesh and blood!" "Oh, my God, you too?" He exclaimed. Suddenly, the agent burst into laughter and the bullet lowered to his hand, it looped between his fingers. "Did I mention I was at the very heart of New Pompeii when everything went down, me and some friends? Now I can do things . . ." Davis flexed his neck to the right and Aaron yelped in pain and fell to the floor, his left leg was broken with the bone protruding through the skin. "Without lifting a damn finger." The old man grimaced in pain, "Telekinesis." He flexed again, this time to the left and broke the man's left arm. Aaron glanced at the gun that was still in his hand and he wanted to unload the entire clip on his son, but abandoned the thought immediately, he knew it was futile. "Indubitably." Davis said, "But that's not all." The agent transmitted his thoughts to his father and his eyes widened in surprised and confusion. You can read thoughts. He thought, his inner voice was solemn. "Among other things." The agent opened his mind and raised his left hand, picturing himself lifting something, his father's dilapidated form was raised in the air and extended by an invisible force. Davis spread his fingers then clenched into a light fist, his father yelled in anguish and a deep grin crawled its way upon his face. "How does it feel? Painful, right? Good." The agent was targeting the man's internal organs telekinetically and squeezing with a light grip, and after a moment or two of self-amusement he released, letting Aaron fall to floor with a heavy thud. The elder man struggled to sit himself up and gave a pained gasp every time he moved. "Why? Why are you doing this?" He winced, "Was I really that terrible?" There was silence for a minute, then the room door opened, but no one was there. Davis glanced at his watch and then stepped out of the way and after another moment he waved a hand toward the exit. "I'm going to answer that with a gesture since I'm out of time." Aaron was confused, but he took the gesture and limped out the door followed by the agent who led him along a wide and lengthy corridor; it was disgusting, a brown and moss green colored substance that smelled like shit covered the walls. The agent opened the door at the end of the corridor, telekinetically, and the pair walked through; the sun peered from behind the mountains on the horizon temporarily blinding Aaron and causing him to shrink back and collide with his son. "Get off me!" He demanded, pushing the man down into the dirt. It was nice to have power over someone; he watched as Aaron struggled to pick himself up again, but there was no smile this time, only malicious thoughts raced through his mind. "Mercy is the mark of a great man I heard someone say once." Davis kicked him in the side, his heavy boots cracked two ribs forcing the already broken man to cough up blood, but he refused to fully submit. He was tenacious, the agent had to give him that, probably where he got it from. Aaron stood with a pained expression and glared at him, vicious hatred in his eyes. "You're free to go, college boy, I'm done." The agent said, shooing him as he paced backwards, "I guess that makes me a good man." Aaron didn't say a word, instead he made a silent and yet cold departure, limping as fast as he could away from the man that brutalized him, away from the hell hole in which he was held. Davis on the other hand looked down at his palm, a gift for his father: the bullet he kept, and it was time he returned to sender. In the span of a second he picked it up and launched it without so much as touching it, and he watched it penetrate Aaron's skull from afar. He dropped dead immediately, from more than fifty feet away. "Well, I'm alright." Davis smiled again, this time with full satisfaction before departing, and leaving the decrepit carcass of the deceased behind. Part ?: "Pop Goes the Weasel" (The Confrontation) Winter of Sorrow: "Cambodia" Winter of Sorrow: No Gods, No Masters Ending Davis walked among the corpses of what used to the United States Congress, he began singing to himself as he walked out of the capitol building. ♪'' ''I've got no strings. ♪'' Once outside he eyed the White House, the home of arrogant bastards who christened themselves the leader of Free World, he clenched his fists in defiance of the United States' government. "Might as well finish what has begun." ''No going back now, he chuckled, not that I'd want to. Agent Davis pranced down the steps as the Capitol Police reinforcements arrived, one of them approached him, his tag read: "A. Rodgers". "What's happened in there?" "Same thing that's about to happen here." He said, smiling something baleful. * * * * Covered in blood that wasn't his, he left behind the tattered remnants of the Capitol Police, a simply dreadful excuse for protection, and headed for home of the tyrant of the United States. ♪'' ''There are no strings on me. ♪'' He said, ominously. Mainstream Universal (My Version: Earth-327) Prologue (going to redo, signed 26 Mar. 2016) '''AARON And BRIAN' awoke simultaneously when their alarm sounded, they both felt groggy, seeing as how neither one of them was a morning person. Aaron managed to wean himself out of bed slowly, removing his girlfriend's arm as to not disturb her Category:Universal Category:Jacen Fett's Stuff